


Memories

by Orlha



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Dark, F/M, Tsukiyomi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-14 11:41:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11207361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orlha/pseuds/Orlha
Summary: Sakura remembers a lot of things and then she doesn’t





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **This is a note of warning.** This fic... is dark. It deals with the effects of Tsukiyomi.

Sakura remembers hold newly-born Sarada in her hand. She was so small and Sakura feared that she would not survive the trip back to Konoha. Sakura remembers being disappointed that Sarada had neither her pink hair nor her green eyes. She never did get into genetics the way Hinata did, but green eyes had always been a dominant gene within the Harunos. Her extended family might not have pink hair, but green eyes had always been a Haruno thing. Sarada, however, is a through and through Uchiha, with eyes and hair black like the night sky.

Sakura remembers celebrating Sarada’s birthdays, she remembers combing her daughter’s black hair and plaiting it into a multitude of ways. Sakura remembers the presents Sasuke would send for Sarada - an Uchiha tessen, a scroll and once even a hair clip with tiny sakura petals on it.

Sakura remembers Sarada’s first day at the academy, she remembers teaching Sarada her chakra controlled punches and how to break the ground with just a tap. Sakura remembers wednesday afternoons at Ino’s home, watching Inojin and Sarada play ninja in the backyard.

Sakura remembers Sarada graduating, she remembers changing the cloth of Sarada’s headband because she wanted to match her mummy’s. Sakura remembers sending Sarada off to her first C-rank mission. Sakura remembers the war that came after.

Sakura remembers that she is forty and lying in a pool of blood, she remembers Sarada trying to heal her.

Sakura remembers dying.

Then she wakes.

 

 

Kakashi is crouching over her and there is a palm hovering over her temple. Sakura sees Tsunade just in her vision and feels the cool minty healing chakra wafting through here, but it is all wrong.

She should be dead. Kakashi should be dead and shishou should be dead. The earth beneath her palms is gritty and there is a bitter taste in her mouth from kage knows what.

“Sakura? Can you hear me?” Kakashi asks. There is that tinge of desperation that makes Sakura feel strange. “Sakura?” His thumb caresses her cheek and it is trembling just enough for her to tell.

“Kaka… sensei?” She replies in a hoarse voice. _Perhaps this is life after death,_ she thinks, especially since she’s surrounded by dead people. “You’re supposed to be dead,” Sakura says very unhelpfully.

“Thank you,” Kakashi murmurs. “Thank you for coming back.” The relief in his voice is almost audible and Sakura wants to give him a tight hug. Except she doesn’t know why. Sakura doesn’t remember being close to Kakashi. She only remembers Kakashi being distant.

“Sakura, what is the last thing you remember?” Tsunade asks.

“Sarada-” Sakura says. She left her daughter behind, her sweet daughter to fight in a war that she shouldn’t have been in. Sarada that had so many things to left to learn from her.

There is twist of emotions in her two sensei’s faces, a furtive, fleeting fear across Kakashi’s face and a disappointed look in Tsunade’s face like she’s answered a question wrong.

“Tell me about Sarada,” Tsunade says instead of explaining.

“Don’t you remember her? She’s my daughter. You held her when she was born, you babysat her too and taught her to gamble even though I told you not to.” Sakura remembers being mad Tsunade for teaching Sarada how to count cards. “She should be eighteen now,” she continues wistfully.

“Sakura, she can’t be eighteen.” Tsunade smooths her hair, her voice is very gentle and sad. “She can’t be eighteen because you’re only seventeen.”

 

 

Her vision goes dark and grainy after that and when she wakes with a stifled sob, she is wrapped in Kakashi’s arms. Kakashi is cradling her, his hand carding through her damp tresses.

“Kakashi?” Sakura doesn’t remember being this close to Kakashi. Kakashi doesn’t reply, only continuing his silent ministrations. “I don’t understand. Where’s Sarada?”

Sakura can feel his shoulder shake, his head bent over her shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough. If only I was faster, if only I could have-”

“Is she dead?” Sakura can’t imagine having to bury her daughter. Did Sarada find out about the life exchange jutsu? Did Sarada trade her own life for Sakura’s? She makes an abortive move to get up, only to be stopped Kakashi’s grips on her wrist. “Kakashi… did Sarada use kisho tensei jutsu? Did she?”

“Sakura… Sarada doesn’t exist. Sasuke… he placed you under a Tsukiyomi. You never had her.”

“You’re lying! Liar! I remember holding her for the first time, I remember plaiting her hair, I remember the first jutsu I taught her.” Sakura tries to free herself but Kakashi’s holding her firmly to his chest. “You’re lying! Where’s Sasuke? I’ll prove it to you. Sarada? Sarada? Sasuke!”

She’s screaming for Sasuke, clawing at Kakashi. Kakashi’s grip never falters and neither does his murmurs of _‘I’m sorry’_.

“Sasuke… _please._ ” Her breath is coming in harsh, stuttering gasps, her heart beating erratically in her chest. “ _Please._ ” And the fight goes out of her.

 

 

“You can’t keep hoping for something to change,” Sakura hears Tsunade’s quiet voice. “Tsukiyomi victims have been studied. They aren’t likely to recover. You read the studies, Kakashi. You know the chance of her recovering is improbable.”

Sakura hears a strangled sob just beyond the tent doors. “I can’t give up on her. She’s my fiancee, I just _can’t.”_

“She’s never going to stop asking for this Sarada.”

“I know.”

“And she will never stop wanting Sasuke.”

“I _know_.”

There is a rustle of cloth and Sakura can see the silhouette of two crouching figures on the fabric. “It’s easier if you just stopped now.”

Kakashi chuckles hollowly to Tsunade’s words. “Since when did I ever take the easier route?”

“ _Kakashi-_ ”

“I won’t abandon her. Even if it takes me a decade or two.”

Sakura turns, trying to put Kakashi’s words out of her mind. She is Uchiha Sakura, she have been married to Sasuke for over a decade. She is one of the legendary Terrible Three, the one that makes fissures in the ground with just a tap of her heel.

Now, she is none of those. She is… nothing.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It takes Sakura two weeks to slip Kakashi’s watch. They say that it was a genjutsu, a tsukiyomi. Sakura doesn’t believe them. Tsukiyomis are filled with pain and torture and her memories weren’t that.

She remembers Sasuke’s infrequent returns back to Konoha. She remembers watching him plant the garden. She remembers the feel of the soil between her fingernails when she harvested the tomatoes.

They aren’t dreams, they are memories.

Sasuke is in this encampment, she heard the guards talk about it. Her chakra sensing, though not as good as Sarada’s, pick out Sasuke’s signature at the far end. The genjutsu she used in her dreams works.

They lied. Sarada, her marriage with Sasuke aren’t _dreams._ They are memories.

She slips through the tent doors and stares at the black haired figure. His fingers are bound together and seals criss-cross across his skin.

Sakura remembers the taste of Sasuke’s kisses, the smell of his skin when she plants her kisses on the back of his neck. Sakura remembers him waking her up with butterfly kisses across her neck on the mornings that he is around. Sakura remembers Sasuke coming home when Sarada is twelve.

“So you’ve come,” he says.

His eyes are haunted and wild, filled with malice that she’s never seen it directed to her.  He leans as far forward as his chains allow him, his lips split into a large smile. Cold and chilling, bereft of the affection and joy she is used to seeing. Gone is the quiet smile he would give her upon catching her stare. Where has the Sasuke she loved gone? Then he asks, “how was the dream?”

His eyes flicker momentarily to red, the tomoe flashing just for a microsecond and she remembers.

She remembers begging for mercy. She remembers calling for Kakashi. She remembers him counting the moments they had left. She remembers using Kakashi’s memories to block him out. She remembers holding onto the hopes and dreams that she and Kakashi had talked about. She remembers him subverting her memories, replacing them.

She opens her mouth, her throat convulsing as terror sears through her.

She remembers his smile, the flash of teeth when he pulls the sword out. She remembers his voice when he spurred her to resist.

“Sakura!” Arms reach for her, pulling her into a warm, solid presence, away from the laughing Uchiha. The scent on the jounin vest tugs at her memories. The war of familiarity and unfamiliarity churns in her memories. Doubt socks in her chest, sour and acrid, like the bile that threatens to escape her mouth.

She remembers Sasuke’s hand through her chest, she remembers his sword, the crimson crescent through the air, the sword-

“Sakura!” Kakashi cups her face, the other arm, holding her tight. “You’re okay, he’s gone now. You’re okay,” he cradles her, rocking her. Her body is shaking even with Kakashi’s arms around her. The ache in her throat is more than a burn, like shards of broken glass down her throat. She should be screaming from the way her lungs strain for air, but she hears nothing except the thumping of her blood in her ears.

She doesn’t want to think, she doesn’t want to remember, except the memories keep flooding in.

“It was all false, not real,” she repeats, trying to claw her face as though it will help to erase the dream. “A dream, not memories.” Kakashi’s hands wrap around her wrists.

“What did Sasuke do to her now?” another masculine voice asks.

“I don't know, but she won't stop screaming and she keeps-”

A flush of minty Chakra rushes through her and the black that comes after that is a relief.

 

 

Sakura wakes up and thinks it was all a nightmare. She thinks it’s Sasuke’s wrapping his arms around her. It’s the war, she remembers. The war where they were attacked by the outer continents. She turns in his embrace only to freeze at the face of the man holding her. His silver hair is disheveled, there are bags under his eyes and his face… there is a sense of familiarity and skip in her heart when she takes in his bare face.

She touches his face, roving the dips and curves with her fingertips. She remembers this face like a hazy dream.

She remembers the stolen kisses behind trees during the war. She remembers holding Kakashi’s hand and kissing his palm tenderly. She remembers his soft touches vaguely, but she remembers Sasuke doing that too. Had it been Kakashi or Sasuke?

Kakashi is staring at her when she finally lifts her eyes to meet his. His eyes are heavy with grief, hope and resignation, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. She supposes it’s not his fault that she wakes up in his arms. Her bedroll _is_ a whole metre away, yet she still unconsciously crawls into his every night after she falls asleep.

Sakura lists forward and his arms tenses. “Kakashi,” she whispers, breaking the heavy silence. “You love me, true or false?”

His hand spasms at her question. Kakashi closes his eyes briefly, the sorrow in his eyes is too much to bear that Sakura opens mouth to retract it.

“True.”

She doesn’t remember Kakashi, at least not the way she thinks she should. She remembers Kakashi neglecting her as a student. She remembers the both of them drifting apart over the years. She remembers seeing him on a pedestal during the Fourth Shinobi War but never talking to him in person.

“Tell me”

He tells her of their two room apartment in Konoha that they had bickered over the location of the bed and the couch. He tells her of Mrs Ukki that had bloomed one fine day and they joked about Mr and Mrs Ukki finally have a child. He tells her of how he almost lost her during the war and agonized over wanting to marry her. He tells her of how Tsunade smacked him and reminded him that the legal marriage age is sixteen with parental consent. He tells her of how he proposed under the full moon with Senju Tsunade’s heirloom ring. He tells her of how she stitched mini-Hatake emblems on their uniforms.

His arms are trembling, his voice hoarse from talking. Sakura doesn’t remember it one bit and with the unreliability of her memories…

Kakashi draws a ragged breath and pulls his necklace from under his shirt. Two pale gold rings sit on it. One larger, obviously made for a man’s finger and the other smaller, with leaves carved into it, leaves that were once a trademark symbol of the Senju. Kakashi reaches over, flipping the underside of her sleeves and she sees it - the tiny Hatake emblems embroidered in black thread.

She fingers the smaller ring, slipping it onto her finger.

Then she remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. This is the end. And how it continues, you can decide. I’m pretty much done with this idea and will not be writing anything further.


End file.
